"One lady threw herself at me and hugged me and kissed me and called out, 'Francis! Francis!…She was pissed, but it helped my confidence no end!"-Sir Derek Jacobi on his role as Francis Bacon in Love is The Devil

Life, death and everything in between – namely sharing a
house – are the topics canvassed in He Died With a Felafel
in his Hand, Richard Lowenstein's quirky, droll glimpse of the
shared house experience. There's nothing tentative about either
the characters or Lowenstein's approach and style; it's an
entertaining and humorous look at the social environment and its
impact on the individual. Lowenstein's script acutely captures
the angst, the disparity, the conflict and the heart of the
characters, each of which is beautifully drawn. The musical
references are diverse and interesting, while the eclectic
international cast oozes with colour and unpredictability. The
central character Danny (Noah Taylor extracts every last drop of
indecision and agony) is a wannabe writer who is trying to find
himself creatively and personally. Neither his beloved Underwood
typewriter nor the secret that is supposed to makes girls-go-gaga
seem to have resulted in instant success; the reality of his life
is bumbling though the highs and lows with a bizarre group of
oddbods that meander in, out and around the action. Key
characters like Anya (Romane Bohringer, memorable) effectively
display her want to inject chaos far and wide; she seems totally
at home presiding over sacrificial rituals. Flip (Brett Stewart,
terrific) overdoses with non-legal indulgences and tans his gaunt
complexion by 'moonbaking'. I especially enjoyed Emily Hamilton,
who plays Sam – perhaps the most 'normal' of all the
characters. She bounces from redhead, brunette and blonde in the
different cultures of Brisbane, Melbourne and Sydney with
enthusiasm tinged with vulnerability. Sophie Lee ('I'm a bit of a
babe, aren't I?') is entertaining as neurotic, self-obsessed,
colour-coordinated Nina, and there are many moments that are
painfully real, yet so funny to observe. Like the book, He Died
With A Felafel In His Hand is the kind of film that is very
likely to develop a cult following. The crazy, uncoordinated
chaos makes compulsive viewing and the film is as compelling as
it's fabulously image-descriptive title.Louise Keller

Powered by energy, HDWAFIHH is like a felafel filled with a
combination of flavours and tastes that blend together to create
something new from elements that aren’t. Pop cannibalism on
screen, you might say, without a derivative result. This is
Lowenstein’s major achievement, as is his work with the cast.
It results in sustained tension and sustainable comedy. Activated
within the setting of a young man in search of an ideal house to
share, the film’s amusement value is high, despite a
slightly strained structure, around the middle. But nothing can
detract from Noah Taylor’s outstanding performance as Danny
the misfit whose pov gives us entry into this haphazard world.
You could say that the role of Danny was tailor made for him. . .
.his timing and screen presence were worth the wait. (Lowenstein
had to delay shooting for six months while Taylor worked on
Almost Famous.) He balances the needs of the comedic pain with
the exigencies of dramatic truth very well. Entertaining and
observant, HDWAFIHH is a really successful adaptation, making the
material work on screen, unlocked from the written word.Andrew L. Urban

Translating John Birmingham's episodic novel to the big screen
was always going to be a tall order. The sheer number of
characters and the fractured nature of the story mitigated
against traditional film narrative. Richard Lowenstein's solution
is to pull a few key elements from the book and to introduce a
central character who doesn't appear in it. The result for fans
of the book (and yes, I'm one) is likely to be one of
bewilderment. Still, as film in its own right, Felafel has some
fine moments. Many of these come courtesy of Noah Taylor as Danny.
His blend of arty-farty writer and dork is spot-on, making him a
truly memorable character. The film manages to pick the eyes out
of the novel, presenting a number of hilarious scenes featuring
outlandish flatmates, as Danny navigates his way through the maze
of share-house living. Sophie Lee features in one of the funniest
of these moments. As the self-absorbed Nina, she created some
very bad flashbacks of share-house living for me. The main
trouble with Felafel though is a ponderous script that makes us
sift through a lot of chaff before getting to the grain in the
story. The result is a rather disjointed film that drags rather
than skips. When it hits its straps, Felafel shows flashes of
brilliance. For many, those moments will be worth the admission
price alone. But with the source material the filmmakers had to
draw from, it's difficult to count this as anything but a miscue
- an occasionally interesting one, but a miscue nonetheless.David Edwards